#but his moms at work all the time and physical affection isn’t really miyagi’s thing

[wolfgangevenstar]

want to write touch starved lawrusso and as fun as i think it would be to write johnny as the touch starved one i know for a fact that it’s actually daniel

[fangirlingwhileblacktarot]

You Have Created A Monster

Summary: Dean x Reader, fluff, kid-related fluff, fluff w/ some angst. You are temporarily incapacitated and Dean offers to help you with a task. Sam is around as well.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

Trigger Warnings: Mention of a chronic, painful injury, physical disability, single-parent issues, death of a loved one

Word Count: 1900-ish

A/N: This is for Taylor aka @impalaimagining​’s “Things Nobody Likes Challenge” in honor of her Birthday! My prompt is “styling hair”. Thank you Taylor for your awesome beta-reading skills and Happy (Pre-) Birthday!!

Even after you insisted that you could manage alone, Dean and Sam had stuck around for a couple of days. Dean even showed you some extra kindness by offering to help you shower, before you declined (with some hesitation). The braces on both wrists were supposed to ease your ongoing carpal tunnel pain. Consequently, being nearly squeezed to death by the snake-like tendrils of an Echidna monster hadn’t helped your situation.

You were honestly having a pity party, yourself as the Guest of Honor. You were a grown-ass woman, used to doing everything yourself and most things for other people, including Maya, your six-year-old daughter. The current obstacles was styling her hair before an important visit. With the numbness in your fingers, the weakness in your arms, it was difficult to just make a straight part through her forest of dark, unruly curls. In frustration, you directed her to go watch her favorite tv show and laid back on the bed, accepting defeat.

Minutes later, there was a rhythmic knock at the door.

“You better be careful letting Maya hang with Sam,” Dean said after opening the door. “He’s telling her about The Neverending Story and the Dark Crystal. It’s an old-school nerd takeover. We better get in there before it’s too late.”

“He also introduced her to The Care Bears,” you said in Sam’s defense.

“Yeah - those things are pure evil. Nothing can be that happy all the damn time.”

Dean was dressed in a midnight blue t-shirt and jeans. His feet were bare on your hardwood floor, and his hair was still wet from the shower. You tried to ignore the delicious, toned muscles of his arms and attempt blindness to how good he looked in your bedroom.

“Oh, she’ll be fine. I’m the one who always ends up hurt when you guys show up.”

You were aware of how whiny you sounded, but you didn’t care.

“And we always save your butt. Like when an Echidna is going for the kill,” he reminded you. He was not having any of your bullshit that day. There would be no pity parties on his watch. “Besides, I think you like me patching you up. There are better, less dangerous ways to get me to touch you, Y/N. You can cut out the middle-man, or monster, in this case.”

“Maybe another time, like when my ex’s mother isn’t on her way to pick up my child. That woman is not my biggest fan, you know.”

“She’s obviously not right in the head.”

You needed the laugh that created. Dean’s loyalty to his friends, you included, was one of your favorite things about him.

“Yeah, she blames me for Jason’s death.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

You nodded in agreement, though it still hurt.

“You did an amazing job with her.”

He was doing it again. You were perplexed, but reluctantly invested in how proud Dean acted toward you and Maya.

“Move over,” he softly directed. You made room on the bed, but stubbornly stayed lying down. The familiar, warm and flirty scent of your body wash drifted from Dean’s skin.

“How’s the web-shooters?” He asked.

“Fine,” you lied. “How’s your ribs?”

“Just peachy…I’ll live…Hey, I have a question about Maya.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Don’t take this personal but, what’s going on with her hair today?”

“Her hair?”

“Yeah, it’s always so…uh, neat. And now it’s…kinda not your style?”

“Oh God, even you noticed it! The witch will use it against me, just watch.” The panic began setting in.

“What can I do?”

“Give me a spell that would make my daughter’s grandmother a nicer human being? Otherwise - I got this. I just have to wrestle my child’s hair into submission, as usual.At least this is not the stupidest injury I’ve had. That was when I coughed so hard I blew a blood vessel in my eye. I actually made up a monster story to cover up my lameness.“

“Speaking of lameness…Y/N, I know you’re not okay.” His voice felt deeper, richer as it trickled down to you. “Come on, let me help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“Your daughter’s hair.”

You were about to laugh when you looked up at his face. He was serious. Her clothes and other needed items were packed. Her hair was really the last thing you needed to complete. That was your parental job. How did he think he could just…do it? He had no clue. You imagined what a bird’s nest he would leave on Maya’s head and inwardly cringe. Dean was good at many things, but this didn’t seem to fit his skill set.

“I gave my brother all of his haircuts growing up…”

“That’s nice, but not exactly…”

“How much time you got?”

You checked your cell phone. “Oh shit, 38 minutes!”

"Well, it’s either me, Sam, or it doesn’t happen. Or Maya could do it herself. I’m sure she’ll love that,” he said with a knowing smirk.

You cringed more remembering that time she put a bag of melted gummy bears in her hair…

“I can do it,” you insisted, willing yourself to sit up against the headboard with painful effort.

“I know how you are, but I can help.”

“How am I?”

“You know. You’re very DE-tailed.”

You couldn’t argue too much with his assessment.

“Exactly! I got this,” you repeated.

“Okay, if you insist,” he said, obviously not believing you because he had a working pair of eyes, and brain.

With perfect timing, Maya ran into the room with the sparkly pink container that held her hair accessories and climbed onto the bed.

“Mom, did you pack me some deodorant?”

“Maya, we’ve been over this. Your cousins are older than you, so they can wear deodorant. You, ladybug, do not need it.”

“I’ll just ask Grandma to buy me some,” she said dismissively.

“I love this kid,” Dean laughed. “Guess what, Sweetie? Your mom’s ready to do your hair,” Deans added, then he got comfy against the headboard, arms crossed, ready for a show.

“I want everything purple to match my outfit,” your child announced.

“Sure, ladybug – let’s get started.”

You sat her between the two of you, handed her a tablet for her to watch her favorite animated movie, and began. The results were sad. The wrist splints were awkward, getting in your way. You took them off and tried again. Damn!!! It HURT to do the smallest movement, even one you’d done numerous times before. Maya’s thick head of curls was normally a thing of beauty, but at the moment, it was just a source of torture.

Your cellphone decided to ring at the worst time. Reaching for it and answering was out of the question. Dean grabbed it.

“The Evil Grandmother,” he said, and swiped to answer the call before you can protest. “Hello…She’s in the bathroom…Yes, Mrs. Bridges. This is Dean…Yes, THAT Dean…No, but wouldn’t it be nice if I did? Yes, Ma’am. I will be sure to tell her.”

“What did she say?”

“She wanted to remind you that she is picking up her grandchild. She knows you have an awful memory for things. And she asked if I was now living here.”

You reached over and whispered in his ear.

“You know she’s convinced that I cheated on Jason with you and somehow, that caused his death…She watches way too much I.D. Channel. We weren’t even together-together when it happened.”

“Ha! Tell her that I was not the homewrecking side chick…” he started before looking at a very attentive Maya and then lowering his voice. “…That would be her son, since I met you first.”

He was opening the door to the inevitable discussion you needed to have. Unfortunately, this was…

“Not the time, huh?”

“Pretty much. But you win, I need your help!”

Having already expected this outcome, Dean rubbed his hands together, promptly grabbed the chair from your writing desk, bringing it bedside.

“Your Mom is allowing me the privilege of doing your hair today.”

Maya did a double-take, but moved to the chair when she saw you nodding that it was okay.

“Okay, but you gotta hurry. Grandma is gonna be here soon,” she told Dean before picking up the tablet again. Dean looked at you in surprise and you just laughed.

You were doing it again. The affection you had attempted to bury was digging itself up, cleaning itself off, and gaining oxygen and space.

Dean grabbed his weapon of choice, the hair comb.

“Okay, I’m going in.”

The comb edge made contact with the top her head. He was always so gentle, you knew you need not worry, but he was also so slow that you couldn’t help it. It was like he was afraid to break the child.

“How’s that?” Dean asked and stepped back from his work.

“That’s perfect…If the middle of her head was on the left,” you teased. “Try again Daniel-san,” you gave your best Mr. Miyagi voice.

Dean huffed at you in frustration, stretched his neck, rolled his shoulders back. He was ready to do battle again. As a hunter, whether it was fighting, shooting or working some kind of magic - Dean always made things look easy, almost effortless. You couldn’t remember when you’d last seen him concentrate as hard on something, as he was with Maya’s hair.

“Sweetie, can you turn around and look at me?” He asked.

“Like this?” Maya said, immediately turning to face Dean.

“Perfect. Sit still for second, please.”

Using her nose as a guide, he used the length of the comb to measure what should be the middle of her head. Once he marked his spot, he had her turn around and continued the parting line down the back of her head.

“Done!” he announced in triumph at the perfect straight line he’d created.

“Bravo! I think you did it even better than me on a normal day,” you said sincerely.

Sam walked in from the hall, clapping his hands, causing Maya to do the same.

“Great start, brilliant – what other tricks can you pull off Houdini?”

“I could put you in a headlock,” Dean offered. “But this lovely young lady has all my attention right now.”

You directed Dean on how to make a ponytail. After overcoming some roasting from Sam, he finished with time to spare. It all ended in success with two nice, not-quite-perfect, but passable, pigtails on Maya’s beautiful little noggin.

“Not bad. I guess those videos helped,” Sam said, while Dean gave him a dirty look.

“What videos?” You asked.

“He’s been on YouTube watching some ‘Daddies doing their daughters’ hair’ videos. He didn’t tell you?”

***

A couple of weeks later, on a lazy Sunday morning, Maya jumped into your bed, effectively waking you up in a whirl of kid-energy and excitement.

“Mom! Dean did my hair again. I look like a mermaid unicorn!”

You blinked, trying to get a better look. It was…interesting.  Lots of ponytails, colorful barrettes, and ponytail holders everywhere. Maya was overjoyed. You realized you had created one hairstyle-patenting monster in Dean Winchester. Maya’s new hairstyle was a hot-ass mess.

And also one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen.